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Stay not, till all the lowly
Triumphant reach their home; Stay not, till all the holy
Proclaim the Lord has come.
7 & 6s. M. 689.
HEBER. Missionary Hymn. · Frou Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand, From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain.
2 What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile?
The gifts of God are strown;
Bows down to wood and stone.
3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted
By wisdom from on high,
The lamp of life deny ?
The joyful sound proclaim,
Has learnt Messiah's name.
i Here to the High and Holy One
Our fathers early reared
Yet long to them endeared
Held with their covenant God, As oft, in sacred union,
His hallowed courts they trod.
2 Gone are the pious multitudes
That here kept holy time,
For worship more sublime.
In meekness, Lord, thy call; Thy love still celebrating,
Our hope, our trust, our all. 3 These time-worn walls, the resting-place
So oft from earthly cares
We leave with thanks and prayers ;
Vouchsafed through all the past, With prayers, thy throne addressing
For guidance to the last. 4 Though from this house, so long beloved,
We part with sadness now,
In fairer courts to bow:
So when our souls forsaking
These bodies, fallen and pale,
With joy the change shall hail.
1 The perfect world, by Adam trod,
Was the first temple, - built by God;
2 He hung its starry roof on high,
The broad, illimitable sky;
3 The mountains in their places stood,
The sea, the sky, - and “all was good ”;
4 Lord! 't is not ours to make the sea,
And earth, and sky a house for thee;
R. W. EMERSOX.
The House our Fathers built to God.
1 We love the venerable house
Our fathers built to God;
Their dust endears the sod.
2 Here holy thoughts a light have shed
From many a radiant face,
A perfume through the place.
The mystery of life,
Their doubts and aid their strife. 4 From humble tenements around
Came up the pensive train,
Which filled their homes again. 5 They live with God, their homes are dust;
But here their children pray,
To find the narrow way.
The God of the Seasons.
i Great God! let all our tuneful powers
Awake and sing thy mighty name;
The hand from which our being came. 2 Seasons and moons, revolving round
In beauteous order, speak thy praise ;
To thee successive honors raise.
Its sweetest, kindest influence sheds;
Our lives, our health, our friends, we owe
88. M. 694, HAWES.
The thrush whistles sweet on the spray,
The lark mounts and warbles away. 2 Shall every creature around
Their voices in concert unite,
In praising to take less delight?
Sweet organs, your notes softly swell!
4 His love in my heart shed abroad,
My graces shall bloom as the spring;
And blossoms deck the spray,
How sweet the vernal day!